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YOU CAN'T KEEP A GOOD WOMAN DOWN

Name: YOU CAN'T KEEP A GOOD WOMAN DOWN
Author: Alice Walker
ISBN: 015602862X

by Alice Walker ‧ RELEASE DATE: April 29, 1981

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A thin, often didactic, largely disappointing collection of stories from an enormously gifted author of short fiction (In Love & Trouble) and novels—whose storytelling powers seem wasted on the generally simple-minded material here. The book's first story, for instance, jumps right off with a dazzlingly convincing narrative voice—that of a black Southern small-town woman—but interest soon sinks as the story's bland premise becomes clear: it's a fictionalized, sentimental little riff on Elvis Presley and the black blues writer-singer whose music helped make him famous (with unsubtle echoes of the familiar exploitation issue). Likewise, a vignette of an elderly black, much-feted writer—which is deliciously told but holds only the most obvious ironies. And most of the more intensely serious stories here appear to sacrifice texture of character and incident to sociological debate-and-discussion: reminiscences of black/white sex during the Civil Rights years; two contrasted black women's lives over the years; a monologue-anecdote about a black woman who kills her white lover/abuser; plus some unabashed propaganda re pornography (with special reference to the portrayal of black women in porn). When concentrating on love and marriage, however, Walker seems to ease off a bit and does some genuine exploring: "The Lover"—about a black woman having an affair with a charming, intellectually petty New York Jew at a writers' colony—is unformed but alive; "Laurel" verges on melodrama—a now-married black woman haunted by her mad, white-country-boy ex-lover—but has undeniable grab; and best of all is "The Abortion," the painful anatomy of a deteriorating marriage. Ragged, often superficial work, then—with more sociological interest (the black/feminist intersection) than literary.

Pub Date: April 29, 1981

ISBN: 015602862X

Page Count: 184

Publisher: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich

Review Posted Online: Oct. 6, 2011

Kirkus Reviews Issue: April 1, 1981

Categories:

LITERARY FICTION | SHORT STORIES

- BOOK REVIEW
GATHERING BLOSSOMS UNDER FIRE
by Alice Walker ; edited by Valerie Boyd

- BOOK REVIEW
THE CUSHION IN THE ROAD
by Alice Walker

- BOOK REVIEW
THE CHICKEN CHRONICLES
by Alice Walker

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Awards & Accolades

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13

Google Rating

New York Times Bestseller

THE HANDMAID'S TALE

by Margaret Atwood ‧ RELEASE DATE: Feb. 17, 1985

Tinny perhaps, but still a minutely rendered and impressively steady feminist vision of apocalypse.

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Awards & Accolades

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13

Google Rating

New York Times Bestseller

The time is the not-so-distant future, when the US's spiraling social freedoms have finally called down a reaction, an Iranian-style repressive "monotheocracy" calling itself the Republic of Gilead—a Bible-thumping, racist, capital-punishing, and misogynistic rule that would do away with pleasure altogether were it not for one thing: that the Gileadan women, pure and true (as opposed to all the nonbelieving women, those who've ever been adulterous or married more than once), are found rarely fertile.

Thus are drafted a whole class of "handmaids," whose function is to bear the children of the elite, to be fecund or else (else being certain death, sent out to be toxic-waste removers on outlying islands). The narrative frame for Atwood's dystopian vision is the hopeless private testimony of one of these surrogate mothers, Offred ("of" plus the name of her male protector). Lying cradled by the body of the barren wife, being meanwhile serviced by the husband, Offred's "ceremony" must be successful—if she does not want to join the ranks of the other disappeared (which include her mother, her husband—dead—and small daughter, all taken away during the years of revolt). One Of her only human conduits is a gradually developing affair with her master's chauffeur—something that's balanced more than offset, though, by the master's hypocritically un-Puritan use of her as a kind of B-girl at private parties held by the ruling men in a spirit of nostalgia and lust. This latter relationship, edging into real need (the master's), is very effectively done; it highlights the handmaid's (read Everywoman's) eternal exploitation, profane or sacred ("We are two-legged wombs, that's all: sacred vessels, ambulatory chalices"). Atwood, to her credit, creates a chillingly specific, imaginable night-mare. The book is short on characterization—this is Atwood, never a warm writer, at her steeliest—and long on cynicism—it's got none of the human credibility of a work such as Walker Percy's Love In The Ruins. But the scariness is visceral, a world that's like a dangerous and even fatal grid, an electrified fence.

Tinny perhaps, but still a minutely rendered and impressively steady feminist vision of apocalypse.

Pub Date: Feb. 17, 1985

ISBN: 038549081X

Page Count: -

Publisher: Houghton Mifflin

Review Posted Online: Sept. 16, 2011

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 1985

Categories:

LITERARY FICTION

- BOOK REVIEW
FOURTEEN DAYS
edited by Margaret Atwood & Douglas Preston

- BOOK REVIEW
OLD BABES IN THE WOOD
by Margaret Atwood

- BOOK REVIEW
BURNING QUESTIONS
by Margaret Atwood

- PERSPECTIVES
Appreciations: Margaret Atwood’s Novel The Handmaid’s Tale Turns 30

- SEEN & HEARD
Nan A. Talese, Legendary Publisher, Is Retiring

- BOOK TO SCREEN
Teasers Drop for ‘Shadow and Bone,’ Other Films

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THE THINGS THEY CARRIED

by Tim O’Brien ‧ RELEASE DATE: March 28, 1990

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It's being called a novel, but it is more a hybrid: short-stories/essays/confessions about the Vietnam War—the subject that O'Brien reasonably comes back to with every book. Some of these stories/memoirs are very good in their starkness and factualness: the title piece, about what a foot soldier actually has on him (weights included) at any given time, lends a palpability that makes the emotional freight (fear, horror, guilt) correspond superbly. Maybe the most moving piece here is "On The Rainy River," about a draftee's ambivalence about going, and how he decided to go: "I would go to war—I would kill and maybe die—because I was embarrassed not to." But so much else is so structurally coy that real effects are muted and disadvantaged: O'Brien is writing a book more about earnestness than about war, and the peekaboos of this isn't really me but of course it truly is serve no true purpose. They make this an annoyingly arty book, hiding more than not behind Hemingwayesque time-signatures and puerile repetitions about war (and memory and everything else, for that matter) being hell and heaven both. A disappointment.